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With the puzzle finally done after an hour, the gate opened.
"F1NALLY." Griefer muttered, "TH4T T00K F0R3V3R!"
Calypso sighed, "Agreed."
They wandered down the hallway, towards the mountain. More broken glyphs littering the walls, even down here. Player paid them no mind, not like they could decipher what they mean if they weren't fully visible.
Player turned their attention ahead, where the rest of the group was.
It's been a rough journey, especially since they got the Ghostwalker, but it hasn't been all that bad. Griefer was cured now and Cruel King was getting better. They were glad to have them around, it made things a lot less lonely.
Now, when Shedletsky had talked about the Firebrand, they weren't expecting this... nor the civilization that created a religion around the sword. A civilization that sacrificed animals and people to appease the Ancients, whoever they were.
Player knew these kinds of civilizations were common back then, but it still made them feel sick. Somehow, the Firebrand's religion felt worse. All of Trotter's crew dead, dying at the hands of something unknown.
The Ancients had taken many souls long before them, yet they still feast on the unprepared adventurers who step on their soil.
Player hoped they'd be able to grab the sword, then leave and that would be that. No more deaths, no more suffering under the divine eye of the Ancients.
"Player?" They looked up, finding Calypso staring at them. She gestured ahead.
At the end of the hallway, the concrete gave way to dark stone. In front of them, a mountain stretched upwards, high enough to where Player couldn't see the peak.
Even if they couldn't see it, they knew.
The sword is up there.
"W0W. Y0U TH1NK 1'D BE ABL3 T0 CL1MB TH4T?" Griefer remarked, trying to make the air around them slightly lighter. It worked, somewhat, as Cruel King and Calypso smiled. Captain Trotter's frown didn't shift, only staring at the peak with tired eyes.
"Probably." Player shrugged, "I'd like to see you try."
Captain Trotter cleared his throat.
"Well, let's get goin', crew..."
The five of them began the long, grueling climb up the mountain. No one slipped, thankfully. They resorted to sticking to the wall as they scaled the steep cliff. Calypso was at the forefront, watching for any sudden drops. There was one, but it could be traversed using rocket boots, so that's what they did. Tossing them across the opening was risky, but they managed to get everyone to the other side with no injuries.
They hoped it'd stay that way.
Calypso took a deep breath, turning back to look at Player and Griefer as they neared the top, "Are you ready?"
Griefer and Player both nodded.
"Trotter, about your crew..." Cruel King held a hand on his shoulder to stop him before they reached the stairwell. "My sincerest condolences."
"Thank you, Yer Majesty." Trotter's voice was quiet, vulnerable. Cruel King rubbed his shoulder, trying to provide some semblance of comfort. It worked, as small of a change as it was. Captain Trotter was no longer on the brink of tears.
"Come on, let's get that sword, then we can leave and honor the crew." The captain nodded, following Blackrock's king up the stairs.
The two paused upon reaching the top. Tons of gold, shining in the warm glow of the magma. Calypso and Trotter were staring in awe at the sight. Cruel King couldn't help but stare at the piles of coins and gems, he'd never seen this much, even in Blackrock. For a moment, no one spoke. It was oddly peaceful, considering the turmoil they had gone through to reach this place.
At the end of the platform, a sword stood tall on a pedestal, riddled with cracks from age just like the rest of its kin.
Player found themselves drawn to the sword. Finally, after hours of puzzles and fighting living heroglyphs, they were here.
Captain Trotter ran his hand through the gold coins, watching them slip through his fingers like sand. Calypso stood at his side, staring at the gold like it'd vanish upon her touch.
"Is this..." Calypso whispered, taken aback by the amount of treasure. "Woah..."
"Aye, I've seen gold before... but this?! Avast..." Captain Trotter's small moment of happiness vanished in the scorching heat, "Ne'er did I e'er think I'd find 'er, but fer what?"
"Cap'n?"
"What good be treasure wit' no crew to share with?" He hung his head low. "I be starin' at the fruits of me labors... yet not a smile cross this ol' seadog's face."
"I'm sorry, Cap'n." Calypso wrapped her arm around him, lowering her head to stare at the treasure they had come all this way for.
"I wanted 'em to live, Calypso! I wanted to raise 'em from poverty! For th' treasure be enough to live their lives! Me crew... me family, they could've been happy!" Captain Trotter raised his voice a little, clenching his fist. A few coins fell to the floor, becoming one with the piles of gold at his feet.
"An' these horrible... awful stories o' th' Ancients..."
Player's eyes shifted towards the sword. They needed to get it before it could harm anyone else.
"These terrible forces o' tormented souls... they were the last things our crew met to their fate..." Captain Trotter's shoulder shook.
"I'll ne'er forgive myself..."
"C4PT41N..." Griefer froze when he heard something. Player stopped too, their plan to take the sword fell apart too quickly to salvage it.
Griefer noticed them first. All it took was the sound of the Ghostwalker scraping the ground.
"PL4Y3R! WH4T AR3 Y0U D0ING?! N0W 1S N0T TH3 T1M3-" Griefer yelled, couldn't the punk see that the captain and Calypso were grieving?!
"OI! SHARKBAIT!" Captain Trotter cried, followed by Cruel King and Calypso's alarmed shouts.
"Player?!"
"Child!"
Player froze, moments away from grabbing the Firebrand. Before they could snatch it, they were stopped by Griefer, who had grabbed their wrist. "PL4Y3R, W3 C4N R3TURN F0R TH3 SW0RD L4T3R!"
No. Player shook their head, not when we've come so far.
Captain Trotter removed his flintlock from its holster, pointing the barrel right between their eyes. His hand trembled, his knuckles growing pale with how tightly he held the gun. What alarmed him more was Player's lack of response, they stared down the gun with an indifferent expression.
"What do ye think ye be doin'?! Did ye nay listen not to touch that there thing?!" He hissed, gesturing to the sword with his hooked hand.
Calypso stood there, watching the confrontation with caution. "Cap'n?"
"Sharkbait, listen to me! That there blade be as cursed as the red ensign! We've already entered the Ancients territory and angered 'em! If ye grab it, we might all be sunk!" Captain Trotter tried to reason.
"We need the sword for the quest-" Player said, only for Captain Trotter to cut them off.
"Yer quest has taken the lives of me crew, sharkbait, I don't want it to take any more souls! These powers are somethin' we shouldn't mess with!"
"I want ye to stand down, Sharkbait! That be an order!"
Only silence answered his desperate pleas.
"Why?" Trotter grimaced, "Why won't ye listen to me? Almost as if ye..." He drifted off, eyes going wide as the pieces clicked together.
It made sense.
"You all need to calm down!" Calypso's voice was muffled, drowned out by irritating whispers. "We need to get out of here before-"
It all made sense.
Player, nor the King or Griefer, cared about the crew. They were fooled, lulled into a false sense of security so that they could get the Firebrand. Captain Trotter felt sick. He thought he could trust them!
"Calypso! They tricked us!" Captain Trotter cried, his tone twisting into a mixture of hurt and anger.
"Cap'n?!" Calypso exclaimed, horror passing over her face at his accusation.
"No- Captain-" Cruel King tried to calm him down, placing a firm hand on the Captain's shoulder. "We have no such intentions." His eyes glanced towards the sword. It wasn't good to be around the swords when in such a bad mental state...
He knew from experience.
"Captain, please, step away from the Firebrand."
Captain Trotter flinched and pulled away from the king, scrambling backwards, closer to the Firebrand's carved pedestal.
Griefer glanced at Player. They weren't leaving without the sword, that much was clear. So, he tried a different approach.
"H3Y, Y0U N33D T0 C4LM D0WN, W3 C4N JU5T S4VE TH3 TR0UBLE 4ND GR4B TH3 SW0RD, TH3N W3 C4N L34V-"
"Look around! There isn't a single route lest where we came!" Captain Trotter gestured to the distance, where the bridge had fallen. Unless one of them had a rope, all five of them wouldn't be able to leave. Player may be able to fast travel, but unless they make multiple trips through the temple, they can't get them out.
"We can find something, there has to be something we could use!" Calypso insisted, before Trotter held a hand up, silencing his adopted daughter.
"You've been luring us, 'aven't you?!" Trotter pointed his hook towards Player, who was standing there, watching with no discernible emotions.
Player shook their head. They truly weren't... they just wanted to help... they wanted the sword so no one else would get hurt.
"Ye... ye want to sacrifice us to the slimy Ancients! Ye knew about this!" His shoulders shook, voice cracking as he stared fearfully at the trio. "You want to kill us as the sacrifice! That's why ye led us down here!"
Calypso grimaced, "No, that doesn't make sense!" She protested, pointing one of her cutlasses at Player. "They wouldn't-"
"What reason would they have to lead us down 'ere alone?!" Calypso began muttering something about the sword and the sacrificial glyphs. Her eyes went wide as she tried to reach for the captain, who was glaring at Player. He didn't notice her.
"L3T'S B3 RE4S0NABL3 H3RE. L3T'S JU5T GR4B THE STUP1D SW0RD AND G0 B4CK TO C4MP-" Griefer tried to say, but Captain Trotter wasn't listening.
"Got nothing to say, eh, sharkbait? All tongue twisted that ye and yer crew of bandits were found out?"
"PL4YER... SAY S0METH1NG." Griefer glanced their way, Player continued to remain silent, not even signing. "PL4Y3R?"
They were frozen. Without the ability to feel fear... they didn't know what decision would be best. Leaving would mean they couldn't get the sword, which would be failing their quest. Player clenched their teeth, they needed the sword.
The sword.
They never wanted the crew to die, nor hurt Trotter and Calypso over it. Player thought it'd be a nice change of pace, the three of them would get the sword and the crew would be saved from poverty. Instead, the five of them and whatever crew remained at the camp, were the only survivors out of hundreds of dead men.
There was nothing that they could do that would fix this.
"Brin' it, sharkbait! You and your crew's traitorous path ends here!"
Calypso gripped his wrist, "Cap'n, don't- if you kill them- you'll only be fulfilling the prophecy-"
Something in the pirate captain's eyes shifted. The red that was once warm and full of life, slowly gave way to the fearful, dead eyes of a man shattered by grief.
"After all this time, after everythin', you be protectin' the traitors, eh?" He turned to look at her as she settled a hand on his shoulder.
Suddenly, he grabbed her sleeve and tossed her towards Griefer. She remained on her feet, left to stare at her captain in mounting horror.
Captain Trotter jumped onto the pedestal, reaching for the Firebrand. Cruel King and Griefer both ran forward, trying to stop him from pulling the sword. He ignored them, tightening his grip around the handle even as it burned his skin. A mere second of struggle and the Firebrand was torn from the rock.
He froze as his vision was overcome with a muddled display.
He saw it. Calypso pushing him over the edge.
He was falling... burning... dying.
Why?
Why would she...? Was it all a trick? The laughter, the stories, the training... was it all a lie? Has she been lying to him this whole time? For all these years...
His own first mate, the one he considered his daughter... was going to be the one to kill him.
He brushed off his sorrows, trying to convince himself there wasn't time to be wasting tears over a traitor. Captain Trotter pointed the sword at them, the red, bloodied blade gleaming in the light of the magma.
Stained with the blood of countless people and animals... one more would be nothing to it.
"Don't-" Cruel King yelped when Trotter kicked him away, causing him to hit the rough stone. Griefer cursed, pulling out his crowbar.
Player ran over to their dad, helping him stand as they prepared their launcher. Cruel King pointed his scepter at the rogue Captain, his expression carrying a hint of pain behind it. Griefer stood with his crowbar at the ready, legs shaking slightly. Calypso reluctantly readied her flintlocks, but her hands trembled as she did so.
"Remember that when I lay this here cursed blade on your necks, for I be Captain Trotter, scourge of the seven seas!" Captain Trotter shouted, "I will make it out of here alive! I will avenge me crew!"
"And I will not tolerate yer mutiny!"
"Ye all be wantin' a sacrifice fer yer quest?! Then I'll send you to Davey Jones' locker... ye hornswagglin' mutineers!"
Player shut their eyes. It wasn't supposed to turn out like this.
"Have at me!"
The battle began with a sickening sense of dread.
Player took a deep breath. There was no going back now. The hero pulled out their launcher, aiming for a part where injury wouldn't be lethal. They lowered the rocket launcher in surprise. Captain Trotter had blocked the attack.
They looked at their watch. What in the name of Telamon was the ball icon?
Griefer threw his crowbar, hitting the Captain twice. He landed and threw it again, catching it before it could slip past him.
"Try that there sword on me now, sharkbait!"
Captain Trotter flipped a coin, before tossing it in the air and firing. The bullet reflected off the coin, striking Griefer in the cheek. Griefer hissed, cursing under his breath as blood ran down his face.
Cruel King used his scepter to heal Griefer. He thanked the King, who gave him a nod.
Calypso whispered, "I'm sorry, Cap'n." She fired two bullets from her flintlocks, her face twisted in guilt. Captain Trotter stared at her, his eyes melancholic. His turn was over.
Player looked at their watch again now that it was their turn. Their eyes widened in realization. Did his stance change each time they hit him?
Shoot. This might take a while.
They focused, the bar filled up slightly. Enough to allow for an ice dagger.
Griefer also focused, aiming to fill up the bar in case they needed to use the dagger multiple times.
Cruel King raised his scepter, Trotter moved to block, only for the King to slash him across the face instead. He yelped as Cruel King pulled away, switching to sword. His expression distorted into one of rage as he pulled out a coin.
It flipped. Trotter stared at it for a few moments before raising his flintlock and firing at Cruel King. He managed to block one, but failed the other two bullets, not expecting multiple shots. Blood began to stain the rocks under their feet. Calypso pulled out her flintlocks, the bullets striking their opponent in the arm, Trotter's stance switched to ball once again.
The next turn, Griefer pulled out a bodyguard card and slammed it onto Cruel King's head. He thanked him hastily, still reeling from the attack, Griefer chuckled, "D0N'T M3NT10N 1T."
Captain Trotter summoned a barrel, trying to ignore the blood running down his face. It struck Calypso at full force, the damage spreading out across the group. Player pulled out a jackfruit, beginning to cut it into pieces for their next turn.
They turned towards Captain Trotter, only to see him drinking a jug of Pirate Juice. He tossed the cup over the edge, chuckling, "Let's see what the Firebrand can do, ey?"
The voices screamed. There was sobbing, there were calls for death, for someone to save them. All of it mixed in a dreadful cacophony of noise.
Above all, they called- no, they demanded- for a sacrifice.
Their screams and cries overwhelmed all of his other senses. They didn't care if he got injured, he needed to press forward and escape.
What hurt most of all wasn't the souls trapped inside, it was his crew. He could hear them, their cheers echoing in his ears amongst the voices. They, too, wanted blood to coat his hands, to avenge their deaths.
He pulled out a jug of Pirate Juice, he paused and toasted to his crew. May they rest easy once this was finished. He took a drink, feeling the alcohol course through his veins.
On their turn, they focused on healing. His eyes narrowed, why did they look regretful? They were traitors, they planned this from the moment they stepped into his camp!
Whatever memories were made there were all for naught, sunk like a ship admist a storm. He shouldn't care, but he still does.
"I trusted ye, sharkbait..." His voice shakes, Player pauses, their eyes overcast with doubt. Their turn was already over.
Now, it was his.
Captain Trotter took a deep breath, raising the Firebrand high.
Captain Trotter slammed the Firebrand into the ground. A wave of fire engulfed the stage. Smoke and ash filled their lungs. Screams of pain erupted from the group, followed by coughing as they struggled to breathe.
"0LD M4N! 1CE D4GG3R N0W!" Griefer yelled, taking his eyes off of Trotter to cut up some smoked trout, exchanging it amongst the group. Cruel King threw the ice dagger in the air, it's healing light encasing them and bringing them to stable health.
Trotter kicked the barrel, sending it hurling towards Griefer. He barely managed to dodge in time, avoiding the explosion.
They fell into a pattern eventually. Griefer would use his crowbar, Player would use their launcher and Calypso would switch between the two stances, doing damage when Griefer was bodyguarding someone. Cruel King was once again on healing duty.
The fight felt painfully slow. Every time Trotter used the Firebrand, Player would use the Ghostwalker while Calypso and Griefer focused on damage. Each explosion of a barrel that wasn't dodged or blocked was agonizing, but they were making progress.
Player huffed, clutching their arm, their throat stinging as the fire fizzled out.
Calypso swung her cutlasses, the damage done knocking Trotter to half health. The poison spreading through his veins disappeared.
Another Inferno hit, thankfully Player had used the Ghostwalker beforehand. Captain Trotter grimaced, stabbing the ground with the sacred sword. A green ghost rose behind him, staring ahead with a gaze absent of any emotion.
Player reached into their pocket, pulling out a stick of dynamite. The lingering embers of the Firebrand fed on the wire like starved rats. It traveled far, hitting right where they wanted.
The dynamite exploded, knocking Trotter off his feet. Behind him, the ghost was dissolved in an instant. Trotter caught himself with the sword, using it for support as he recovered from the blast.
Griefer threw his crowbar, managing to hit Trotter all three times. Cruel King took a deep breath when the captain's eyes focused on him. He glanced at the coin, before tossing it in the air. The bullet hit its mark. Cruel King winced as the bullet hit him in the chest.
Then, he lit a barrel, sending it hurling towards Player. They blocked it successfully, preparing their next move.
Preparing to swing, Player raced forward, waiting til the bar landed in green. They made their move while Trotter was grabbing his flintlock, slashing him across the chest. The captain collapsed, clutching his head as his vision began to spin. His health was getting low...
The voices somehow grew louder, feeding on his pain.
Captain Trotter stood on shaky legs, lighting a barrel and kicking it towards someone. Who, he couldn't tell. He just needed them dead.
Griefer yelped as the gunpowder exploded in his face, igniting the leaves on his shoulder.
The explosion spread across the field, hitting the entire team. Griefer apologized, preparing to throw his crowbar on the next turn. Calypso merely nodded and fired her flintlocks.
Next turn, Player shot another rocket. Captain Trotter fell to the ground, signaling their victory.
Player let out a sigh of relief. It was over.
Captain Trotter collapsed, his breathing heavy with exhaustion. Burn marks littered his skin, his coat now torn and scorched. The embers burned the hairs on his skin as he gasped and coughed.
"Cap'n..." Hearing that familiar voice made him feel sick.
Captain Trotter's vision spun, both from the alcohol and the explosions from the rocket. Everything hurt, it felt like he was being burned alive. Blindly, he reached for something to grab. His hand, now covered in fresh burns, grasped the edge of the Firebrand's pedestal.
He looked up, eyes going wide as he saw the group walking towards him.
"No- no! Stay away from me!" He shouted, taking a few steps back.
The voices continued to chant for sacrifice. Thousands of different voices roared in his ears, their cries for freedom overshadowed by bloodlust.
"Why... why do I keep hearin' these here... sounds?" He whispered, his voice growing louder and more hysterical with every word. "These here... voices?!"
Griefer and Cruel King flinched at the mention of the voices. Player frowned, staring at the scene unfolding in front of them.
"Cap'n! You need to listen to us!"
"G3T AW4Y FR0M THE BL4D3!"
"N-no! No! My eye... I can see it..." He huffed, "Through this here blade... I know what ye mutineers be plottin'!"
"Ye' had killed me loyal crew!" Captain Trotter shouted, drawing one of his cutlasses on the nearest person, which was Cruel King.
"Captain Trotter-"
"Back away from the blade, Cap'n!" Calypso pleaded.
"Never! The Ancients prophesied to the sky fer this here moment..." Captain Trotter glanced at the Firebrand, then at the crimson staining the rocks. "A sacrifice... coated in innocent blood..."
"If one o' us 'as to die for us to escape..."
"Then so be it!"
Trotter grabs the Firebrand before anyone has a chance to react. He runs forward, aiming the ancient blade at Calypso's heart. Calypso was frozen, pulling out her cutlasses too late. The brief moment of hesitation was enough.
Blood splattered across the ground. Deep crimson spreading into the cracks.
Silence hung over the area like a thick fog. Calypso screamed, the horrible sound echoing across the sea of lava. Captain Trotter blinked, his frame trembling as he gazed at the pained expression of his first mate. He let go of the handle, his legs nearly giving out underneath him.
Griefer jumped in front of Calypso. Overwhelmed by pure, unfiltered rage, he kicked the Captain in the stomach, sending him past the pedestal... and over the edge.
Captain Trotter shut his eyes, expecting to feel the magma burning him alive. A firm hand, cold to the touch, grabbed his. Captain Trotter thrashed, fear grabbing hold of his senses. He didn't deserve to live after that, he tried to kill them- why-
"Griefer!" Cruel King called, "Help me over here!"
Another hand, this time more rough. Slowly, they pulled Trotter up onto the rocks. Griefer covered his view of Player and Calypso, lest it cause him more pain.
Player expected crying, apologies, maybe even screaming. What they heard was none of those.
In fact, they heard nothing at all.
Captain Trotter stared ahead, his eyes dead and glazed over. All he could mutter was half sentences and apologies. He fell to his knees, seemingly choking on his own tears. Griefer and Cruel King tried their best to console him. The pirate captain's eyes were fixated on his hand, covered in blood. Calypso's blood.
Player watched the scene, observed, guilt spreading through their veins at the sight of his breakdown. They used the ice dagger on Calypso, healing the wound but not sealing it completely.
"We need to go." They said, opening the menu and selecting the map. Player grabbed hold of Calypso's hand, before turning towards the rest, "I'll come back and get you."
The only indication they got was a thumbs up from Griefer.
In a hurry, with little time to think, they selected the camp. Everything faded to black as they warped.
They set Calypso down in one of the tents, before running back. They repeated the process with Griefer, Captain Trotter and Cruel King.
Once everyone was accounted for, Player raced off into the desert, not looking back to see what their actions have caused. They needed healing items.
Thankfully, they knew just who they needed to see.
The villagers gave them glances as they ran past. No one tried to stop them. Player nearly tripped while running up the stairs, but caught themselves before it happened. They rounded the corner, seeing a familiar figure in gray.
Zuka jumped when his gaze fell upon Player, "Kid?!" He exclaimed, "What-"
"I just need a medkit, Zuka, please... some pitas too." They added the last part in a hurry, they had hummus, it'd heal more. The strange shopkeeper complied, handing them the items. Player took them and began putting the extra stuff in the bag.
"What happened, kid?" Zuka asked, glancing at their appearance.
"Something... it's fine, I'll handle it-"
"No, you're covered in burn marks! What happened to you?!"
Player frowned, thinking of Calypso and the others still back at camp. "We... we got the Firebrand..." They started, trying to keep their voice down. "But it didn't go as planned and now everyone's hurt and it's my fault-"
They didn't know why they suddenly started venting to someone they had only known for three weeks, but Zuka felt safe enough. Player explained everything, from the Temple Guardian, to the deaths of the crew, to their battle with Trotter.
The weight felt heavy on their shoulders still, but it was nice to let it out. Heck, they didn't know they still had the ability to break down like that. Killing Fear meant they killed the concept of fearing for the lives of everyone around them. Player knew it'd be a problem, but they didn't realize it until Trotter fell over the edge. It was Cruel King and Griefer that saved him, not them.
Zuka's expression shifted from surprise at hearing about the Firebrand, to concern. He walked out of the shop, taking Player and leading them inside.
The sun illuminated the somewhat cramped space. Player could now see that there were boxes everywhere, presumably with the items Zuka sold. Each box was marked with the name of an item. Zuka gestured to a bench off to the side, while opening the crate that was full of the first aid kits.
Player couldn't meet his gaze as he wrapped their wounds. Why does he care about them? They've barely known each other for a month, they couldn't even be considered friends. Despite not knowing them well, he was making an effort to care for them.
"Where are the others?" Zuka asked, trying to take their mind off of whatever was bothering them.
"Back at camp..."
"Listen, I'll tell you what. You don't need to pay for these." He gestured to the medkits when he was done with the bandages. Player blinked, confused.
"Why?" They had enough tix! More than enough, in fact!
"It's clear you need them, kid." Zuka stated it like it was obvious. "Just take them and take it easy, will you? I know you got a quest and all, but that doesn't mean you should neglect yourself."
They nodded, taking the medkits and began making their way to the camp. No enemies were around this part in particular, which they were happy about. If they had to fight another one of those birds, they feared they might explode. The dirt path continued on, the crunch beneath their feet was soothing enough to drown out their frustration at this turn of events.
If they had just done more, would they all be fine?
I should've done this journey alone, all I do is hurt people, like Hatred said-
Stop.
That train of thought was shut down immediately. They couldn't reverse it, they had to live with it. In their opinion, that hurt more than the Firebrand had.
Entering the camp, they immediately ran towards the tent that the others were occupying. Upon entering, they saw Cruel King and Griefer watching over Calypso. All four of the SFOTH swords sat in a neat pile, tossed in the corner. Out of sight. After all of this, that was a relief.
"I got a few medkits." Player announced as they entered the tent, holding up the items for Griefer and Cruel King to see. The king thanked them, graciously taking the medkits and beginning to unravel the bandages. Thankfully, they didn't question the bandages around their wounds, they wanted to avoid that for now.
Player glanced at Calypso. She was still fast asleep, one hand dangling from the hammock. The sight made them sick, because they were the one who set out to get the Firebrand. It was their fault, if they had just listened to Griefer at the bridge, they wouldn't be in this mess. They could've come back another day, it wasn't like Shedletsky needed them in a week.
Now Calypso was injured, Griefer and Cruel King were hurt and Captain Trotter...
Their guilt increased tenfold thinking of him.
Player took a deep breath, it was hard to show care, but they managed to force the words past their lips. "She'll be okay, right?"
Cruel King paused, clutching the ice dagger tightly. "Yes, my child. It will take a while for her to heal, but she will live."
They let out a breath they didn't know they were holding.
"What about the captain?"
"Griefer used a pair of hypno glasses on him when we got here. He'll be okay... physically, I mean. It'll take time to heal from that." Cruel King sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "We should have waited to get that sword. If we waited another day... or gone in ourselves, none of this would've happened."
"1F W3 D1DN'T SH0W UP, THEY 4LL W0ULD'VE D1ED! R3MEMBER TH0SE !@@&[)÷@ WH0 W3R3 G0ING TO T4KE TH3 TR345UR3 F0R TH3MS3LV35?" Griefer pointed out, his voice quieter than usual as to not disturb Calypso.
"You're right." Cruel King muttered, "You're right and I hate it..."
Silence hung over them.
Cruel King was about to begin applying the bandages, before he could start, however, Griefer stopped him. "I'LL T4KE CAR3 0F C4LYP50."
The king blinked, "Griefer, it's not that I don't doubt your abilities, but are you sure?"
Griefer nodded, scoffing, "Y34H. I'V3 LIVED IN TH3 F0R3ST FOR YE4RS, 1 KN0W H0W T0 CLE4N A W0UND."
"G0 R3ST, 0LD M4N." The Venomshank wielder ordered, waving to the tent entrance.
Griefer turned to them, "Y0U T00, PUNK."
Cruel King let out a sigh, his exhaustion becoming apparent to him now that he was being told to rest. He left the tent with Player following behind and the two began walking over to the tent that the crew had set up when they arrived. Player never got to thank them for that.
"Where's Captain Trotter?" Player asked quietly.
Cruel King gestured to the tent next to them, "He's... not doing the best, Player, be careful."
They nodded, already walking towards the tent as Cruel King went to take a nap.
"Captain Trotter?" Player called, peeling back the fabric to see inside. Captain Trotter was awake, much to their surprise. He sat on the coarse sand, staring at the wall. The captain didn't even notice them.
The wounds he had received were bandaged, clearly by Cruel King. He always wrapped them neatly.
Player moved a little closer, unsure of how to handle this. Captain Trotter's eyes flicked to them, immediately causing Player to stop. He sighed, his eyes still holding that haunted look.
"Sorry, sharkbait, didn't mean to scare ye."
"It's okay..." Player reassured him, "How are you feeling?"
"I'll be 'onest with ye, sharkbait, I feel like shit." Captain Trotter shook his head, already sounding like he was on the brink of tears, "I hurt Calypso..."
The realization seemed to hit him like a stack of bricks, his eyes went wide. "I hurt her-"
Player didn't know what to say. Captain Trotter continued his rambling, tears finally beginning to fall from his eyes.
"I tried to hurt ye, the king, Griefer... no- I did-"
Player sat next to him on the sand, wrapping their arm around him as he sobbed. To think that he was so welcoming, so lively before they entered the temple... that seemed like a long time ago now. They sat there for a few minutes, Player didn't want to say anything. They've already screwed up by getting his crew killed. So, they remained silent, listening as Captain Trotter cried, apologizing to them, to the crew, to Calypso. Perhaps, it might've been the longest ten minutes of their life.
Eventually, Trotter began to calm down, taking a few deep breaths. He opened his mouth, hanging his head low.
"Sharkbait... I... I'm sorry, fer everything. This ol' seadog... wasn't thinkin' when I grabbed that blade, all I heard were these voices and..." Captain Trotter paused, his face frozen in terror, "I saw somethin'."
"Don't say it, you're already forgiven." The captain stared at them in disbelief, struggling to believe their words.
Player took a deep breath, "Those swords... they do things to people. I'm sure you've seen it with Griefer and Dad."
They thought of Griefer tossing Mayor Thanyiel to the side, not even addressing him as father. They thought of Cruel King's sobs before they entered the throne room. "I don't blame you, none of us do. I'm sure Calypso doesn't blame you either."
He was silent for a few moments, taking in what Player said. It was still a struggle to accept their reassurances, but he swallowed his loathing and instead gave a small smile.
"Aye, that... may be true." Captain Trotter raised his head slightly, that spark they'd seen weeks ago finally seemed to be returning.
"Heh, thanks, Sharkbait." Player nodded, smiling, "Go on, go be with yer mates. I need some time."
"Get some rest, Captain." Player said, to which Captain Trotter nodded, but he said no more.
Player left the tent, satisfied that the captain was feeling slightly better. Grieving would take time, but this was a good start. His crew, while they didn't know them for long, knew they wouldn't want him to be like this.
They turned towards the sun, it was almost sunset.
The hero sat on the sand, the grains shifting beneath their boots. Griefer insisted they needed a new pair, since they started falling apart rather quickly after they got the Venomshank. While Player agreed with that, they weren't sure if they'd be willing to throw them away.
They were one of the only things they had left from their time besides the clothes on their back. Cluemer was around, yeah, it was a joy to see him, but they never really got the chance to talk.
One of the many things they still needed to do.
Rummaging through their bag, they pulled out a checklist. Cruel King insisted they kept one, despite Griefer saying they didn't need it. The small notebook proved to be rather helpful. Resilient too, they were surprised it remained in good condition while in the temple.
Once, then twice, they looked it over. They needed to collect more jackfruit from Tulip.
Using a pen, they quickly wrote down: Talk to Cluemer. in bright blue ink.
"My child..." Player looked up to see Cruel King approaching them. "You need to rest, you've been working yourself to death trying to help us."
Player shook their head, closing the notebook and slipping it back into their bag, "I'm fine, dad."
"Sitting in the open, in a desert, with no sleep is your definition of fine?" The hero bit their lip. It sounded stupid when put like that.
Player relented, finally pulling themselves to their feet. Their dad offered a hand, which they gratefully took. Cruel King led them to one of the tents and set them down on the hammock. Their side still stung, but with the medkit, it was numbed a surprising amount.
"Could you tell me a story?" Player asked suddenly. Anything to avoid thinking of what happened today.
Cruel King raised an eyebrow, before he chuckled, shifting the sand with his scepter. "I don't know if many of my stories would be that entertaining, Player."
"Please?" Dang it, no, not that look. Even with the ghostwalker taking their emotions, they could still do that.
Cruel King sighed, not bothering to fight the smile that crossed his face. He pulled up a rickety wooden chair next to the hammock and sat down.
"What do you want to hear?"
Player grinned, staring at him with wonder in their eyes, "How did you meet Kitchen Wizard?"
Cruel King laughed, "Child, that one might take a while!" Eventually, he relented, rolling his eyes, "Alright, if you're sure."
"So, soon after I had become King..." He began, leaning back in the seat, his red cloak dragging on the floor.
With time, Cruel King's story lulled them to sleep's embrace. The king only noticed when Player didn't ask him for another story. He smiled softly, slipping the blanket over them.
"Sweet dreams, my child."
"H0W AR3 TH3Y?" Griefer questioned when Cruel King stepped outside the tent, holding a newly refilled jug of water. He held it out to Griefer, who took it gratefully, taking a sip before setting it down on the sand.
"Don't fret, Brad, they're sleeping peacefully." Cruel King paused, looking at his appearance. "Are you alright?"
Griefer reached up, his nails gently grazing the bandages wrapped around his face. "AR3 Y0U?"
Cruel King chuckled, though it was devoid of any humor, "I don't think any of us are alright after that."
"Y3AH..."
Cruel King sat next to Griefer, staring at the ashes left by yesterday's fire. Before they left for the temple, it was snuffed out... the camp still showed little sparks of life, that might've been what stung most. Those signs that someone lived here, someone who might've had a family waiting for them.
Griefer thought of the possibility of him permanently dying out here. Would Shedletsky have told his dad? Screw that, would Shedletsky had told the citizens of Cruel King's kingdom?
Surely, he would have. Cruel King trusted him. Player did too.
So, that meant he should trust him too, right?
Neither of the wielders moved from their spot for a while. It was nice, just them and the night sky above. They said nothing to each other, not that there was much to discuss.
Griefer decided to bite, "C4LYP50'S H34L1NG, SH3 SH0ULD BE AWAK3 BY TU3SD4Y. D0N'T TAK3 MY W0RD F0R IT, 1'M N0T THE M3DICAL EXP3RT." He added, "1'M PR3TTY @&>/ AT IT."
"No, no, you did great." Cruel King reassured him, "I'm glad she's getting better and isn't... dying."
"S4M3 H3R3."
He glanced at Cruel King, his red cloak was speckled with ash and soot, the edge of the fur lining was burnt.
"W3 B0TH L00K TERRIBLE."
Cruel King shut his eye, nodding, "Yes, we got pretty lucky, given we're both susceptible to the effects of the Firebrand."
"SP34K1NG OF TH4T, Y0U SUR3 Y0U'RE 4LR1GHT?" Griefer asked, "1 H4D TO JUMP IN TH3 04S1S 0NC3 W3 G0T H3R3."
Cruel King smiled, "Yes, Brad, I'm alright, thank you for the concern."
Their conversation dissolved with the setting sun. Soon, the star was gone too, disappearing beneath the hills. The camp was dark, the lanterns not cradling flickering flames, but rather ash.
Exhaustion simply swept them away. No one was willing to touch them after returning.
The silence was shattered with a yawn from Griefer. Cruel King gave him a look, "Tired?"
He wanted to deny it, but the longer he stared at the remains of the campfire, his eyelids began to feel heavy. Instead, he sighed, "Y34H."
"I'll tell you what, could you help me cook tomorrow? Might get your mind off some things."
"Y0U C4N C00K?" Griefer stumbled as he stood, turning to Cruel King in disbelief.
"Well, a bit, I know enough to make something edible. I might be able to remember some of the recipes Player uses."
"W0N'T 1 BURN TH3 F00D TH0UGH?" Griefer pointed out, dusting the sand off of his jeans.
Cruel King laughed, "I know you will." Ignoring Griefer's complaints, he gestured to the tents, "Come on, let's go see what items Player has, we might be able to make shawarma tomorrow."
Weeks passed, Calypso made a full recovery and everyone was well enough to head back to Bizville. After convincing Fred, he took them to the humble town, landing at the dock within an hour. The group of five thanked him, paying him for the trouble. Taking five people across in such a small boat likely wasn't easy.
After that, they settled down. Shedletsky told them he needed to contact the guardian of the Windforce before they could leave.
It meant a break, which was good, but now they had to handle having barely anything to do. Whatever, they'd deal with it.
That afternoon, they were in Player's room in Bizville, which they purchased so that they wouldn't need to constantly ask Terry for a place to crash. Calypso had left to get groceries, leaving the four of them to do whatever they wanted. In the corner of the room, Cruel King and Griefer were discussing ice cream toppings, mainly what was best. As expected with them, it devolved into playful bantering.
Player looked to see Captain Trotter sitting at the chair next to the desk, staring at his hand. The burns from the Firebrand had left scars that'd never fully heal, but he was alive. For now, he and Calypso were staying with them, but once Calypso decided to live with Kyoko... where would Captain Trotter go?
Of course, he could go with the sisters, but he was probably used to being on the move. It'd be difficult for him to adjust...
What if you asked him to join you?
The voices of the Ghostwalker whispered in their mind, prodding the question with insistence.
The offer had been in their mind the entire trip back to Bizville. It was tempting, they needed more help after all... but it also worried them. Captain Trotter lost his entire crew due to the quest, he almost lost his life too.
Well, they should probably ask now... if they didn't, they would never get the chance to ask again.
"Hey, captain!" Trotter hummed as he looked up. Here goes nothing.
They took a seat next to him. "Oh, hey, sharkbait!" He grinned, "Got a question for me? Ye have that look in yer eyes."
"Uhm- yeah... actually."
"Do... do you want to join us?" Captain Trotter blinked, taken aback by the offer. "On our journey, I mean- I know it's soon and-"
"What? Sharkbait, I'll be honest with ye but... this ol' seadog doesn't know if he's ready for that so soon."
"We won't need to go for another few months, Shedletsky needs to get in contact with the next guardian." Player explained, holding out their hand, "You'd have time."
Captain Trotter was silent, for a moment, Player thought he wouldn't take it. They wouldn't blame him if he didn't accept. After all he's gone through, they expected him to decline.
Instead, he leaned back in his chair. The former captain smiled as he accepted Player's handshake, "Sure thing, sharkbait."